Pendragon Island III
by inukshuk
Summary: The day after the day after … this is getting complicated. Explicit Arthur/Leon slash and implied Merlin. Rated M, NC17. You have been duly warned.


TITLE: Pendragon Island III

AUTHOR: Inukshuk

SPOILERS: None.

FOR STORY CONTINUITY: Read Pendragon Island I and II first. They are loosely related …

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RATING: Contains explicit sexual slash content. Rated M / NC17

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DISCLAIMER: The characters and situations of the television program "Merlin" are the creations and property of Others, and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended.

FEEDBACK: yes please … writers need encouragement.

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Pendragon Island III

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When Arthur awoke, Merlin was gone.

The bed seemed empty without him.

Arthur rolled to his stomach and tried to shake off the heavy, distracted feeling of abstinence. For two nights in a row, he had put all his desires and yearnings aside and remained unsatisfied. He had done it for Merlin – so that Merlin could experience this corporeal newness in all its wonder without the distraction of another's needs. Arthur wanted him to know he was the only focus and at the centre of Arthur's consciousness and attention. It had required effort – and last night at one point – he was not sure he would be able to withstand the irresistible temptations that Merlin stimulated in him. Merlin – for all his awkwardness and innocence – had a powerful hold on him. Perhaps it was because Merlin was so unpractised, so natural and naive.

Had Arthur surrendered to himself, he knew that Merlin would have been overwhelmed by his appetite and would not have had the physical endurance to withstand Arthur at his fullest vigour. Even as protective and mindful as he had been, Arthur knew he had been too forceful. He had let himself become distracted by Merlin's inexperience. His reactions had been so pure, so real and new that Arthur had been swept away by the singular chance to show him, to be Merlin's guide and reveal – for the first time – the pleasures that Arthur had so long wanted to give him. He wanted Merlin to feel as he did but forgot that his attention would be too intense for Merlin; Arthur had left him sore and more than once startled from the degree of passion he possessed.

Arthur rose from his bed and noticed a breakfast already laid out of him. He poked around at the plate and found three of his four favourite foods arranged in good supply. There had been a benefit after all to his restraint.

He dressed and avoided giving himself much attention. Any preoccupation with self would have made him late. He did not tolerate lateness with his Knights and he dispensed with pleasure to maintain his good example. He had a sensation that time was running away with him and he had the curious sensation that he might never have sex again.

Out on the training ground, his troops had assembled in a loose formation and he quickly marshalled them into their usual drills. They were good men all. Some lacked maturity. Some confidence and some skill. A few – however - possessed all three qualities and these men were his elites – the men who stood first ranked among them. He paired up his men for close hand to hand combat and Arthur chose one of the best of these peers – as he often did – to be his partner. Leon was a bear of a man; made of nothing but solid bone and thick muscle. He possessed an innate centeredness of both body and mind that made him one of Arthur's most trusted soldiers. Leon also had a quiet constancy, an understated, wise way about him that Arthur looked to when he was in need of insight and good advice. There was another secret aspect to Leon that had long since earned Arthur's extreme loyalty. It ranked Leon a man above almost all and made Arthur particularly attached to him.

Leon was the first man who ever saved Arthur's life.

Others had done it since; some more than once. But Leon was the first and it had a profound effect on Arthur. It had not at all been like Merlin's efforts - who had an odd, complicated way of saving his life. There was a strangeness to what Merlin did – a convoluted obliqueness in how he accomplished it, as if it had all might have be done by slight of hand and might have been explained by some other means. Leon – on the other hand – had used nothing but raw physical power. This broad-chested warrior had saved Arthur's life the hard way – on the battle field under the disorienting pressure of an ambush attack with a sword clenched in his hand, a primal yell in his throat.

x x x x x x x x

Uther had sent Arthur out on his first patrol. Arthur had gone with two soldiers and Leon. They were half a day from the Castle when they were attacked without warning. One of Arthur's soldiers was slain before he was off his horse. A close battle ensued and they were just slightly outnumbered. With sword drawn, Arthur had dismounted and engaged in tight combat. As his attacker came for him Arthur did as he had been trained to do. He killed him where he stood; a single blow straight to the heart – deep in and then fast out. His attacker froze and dropped to his knees. With a shocking lack of sound, he clutched his mortal wound and lifted his gaze. The green eyes were bright and wide and Arthur would remember them forever. They stared at each other – the man's eyes speaking to him, mourning a life unlived and then collapsed to the ground – dead.

The fight whirled around Arthur as he continued gaping at the corpse he had just created. This was the first human Arthur had ever killed. It was different than an animal; different then watching an execution; different than watching someone die of natural causes or gutting the straw men they used in training. This time – Arthur was responsible – responsible for the death of another human being; the solitary agent in terminating a life. It horrified him and the shock of it rooted him to the spot.

"Arthur!" It was Leon's call to attention.

He turned and at the last second, saw the last enemy soldier bearing down on him with a sword held overhead in attack. Arthur had been off-centre and blindsided. Arthur had no chance to react and all at once, he suddenly understood what those fresh dead eyes had been trying to tell him – no, not yet – let me live – for that was what Arthur thought. He knew he would die and could never be able to react fast enough. Regret weighted him down. To Arthur's credit he tried valiantly to defend himself but the soldier had the advantage of time and height, surprise and experience. The sword was not raised high - it was not elaborate or epic – just an efficient blow being sent true and clean to its target.

Just as Arthur prepared for the final blow, the soldier fell, screaming and clawing, on top of him. Arthur remembered feeling that white hot fear of terror – every nightmare ever had come true in a single moment. Time slowed as he began to realize that he had not been killed. He threw off the corpse and looked up. Leon stood over him, the bloodied sword still in his hand and an expression vaulted satisfaction – as if he would have never allowed anyone to harm Arthur. The spell was broken as voices rose up in the distance.

"There's more approaching." Leon alerted him and grabbing his shoulder, pulled him into action. They ran – having lost their mounts – into the thick of forest and ducked behind the first tree that could hide them from view. Leon slammed his back against the trunk and pulled Arthur in close, allowing them to hide in a single place. Leon encircled him with protective arms and made them one. Arthur stumbled and fell into Leon, straddling his left leg. They were both out of breath and Arthur heaved and gasped – from exertion and the sheer terror of both having killed and nearly having been killed. He felt turned inside out – all his nerves on the outside, exposed and electrified. A few moments ago he had thought himself dead and now he was alive. Energy – exuberant and victorious - coursed through his veins, stimulating his senses until his flesh crawled with a brimming life force that he could not contain.

The voices faded away. Seconds passed in suspended animation, then in the rigid stillness, Arthur became overwhelmed with a sudden compulsion. He knew instinctively it was in his nature and felt driven to do it; if he did not, he would die. He trusted this man who had just saved his life and simply knew he could not help himself. Still breathing heavily, Arthur pushed his groin into Leon once. His thigh was strong and hard; muscular and unmoving.

The sensation of being able to press what was most sensitive against the willing flesh of another stimulated a cascade of potent tensions. Arthur was instantly aroused; Leon did not react. The irresistible sensation compelled him to do it again, this time harder, with enough force that Leon could not ignore it. Leon turned to him and held his gaze. His expression was benign, pensive. Very slowly – as if testing to see how far it would go and expecting at any moment to be stopped – Leon let his hand trace downwards over the small of Arthur's back and then over the curve of his buttocks, squeezing momentarily and then rested there. Arthur's blood began pounding anew – this time not from terror or exertion but desire. He began breathing from deep within himself – coarse panting, trying to control his body but failing. Connected suddenly to impulses that he did not adequately understand but knew had absolute rule over him, Arthur pushed into Leon once more – insistent and demanding his attention.

It was simple, uncomplicated and intense. Leon exposed only what was needed and stroked Arthur until he came. The ferocity of his orgasm left him weak-kneed and off-balance and Leon steadied him and offered his body to lean against. Afterwards, Leon kissed him on the mouth and lingered with a delicate indulgent sweetness, as if welcoming him after a long wait and kept his arms secured around him, providing comfort and safety and stillness where Arthur could recover without rush or shame.

Leon had been Arthur's first – his only guide long ago – and as Arthur matured in skill and taste and capacity, then Leon discretely introduced him to others – hand picked and tested – who could teach and satisfy him in new, more sophisticated ways.

x x x x x x x x

On the open field, Arthur felt like a feral animal in heat. Discontented, he used the training session to dispel his excess energy and executed the drills with a vigour that left his knights breathless. He put them through their paces, participating along side them as he did so. Long swords, defence, short weapons until they were sweaty and making noises to help sustain their efforts and showing the first signs of fatigue.

Leon stood in front of him as a partner and Arthur swung his sword in an arrogant, needlessly showy arc before striking with his full force. Leon blocked and took a slight step back at the unexpected battle-conditions power that Arthur felt compelled to use. This was not a training session of half measures. Arthur swung again and his blow ricocheted with a colossal thud. A third time, he let loose and struck – first with his sword, then his shield and then with an undaunted, unapologetic advance that Leon had not expected. He retreated and stumbled. Leon received the ensuing blows, and was bowed by them temporarily. Arthur let a moment go by, waiting for Leon to relax and when he did not, Arthur took another large swing at him in frustration. Leon fell backwards and looked up, an unspoken question on his face as if wondering what had prompted Arthur's unprovoked rage. He was not angry; simply curious.

Arthur was out of breath from the effort and finally acknowledged his temper as an unreasonable reaction to his state. As a truce, he held a hand out to Leon and helped him back to his feet. They came in close to each other – shoulder to shoulder - in that way men had to confirm that there was no hard feelings or mal-intentions. Arthur thumped him on the chest and drew him slightly inwards.

"Tonight." Arthur whispered the word and it was lost in the noise of clashing swords and shields and the other soldiers training for battle. Leon did not make eye contact but dipped his chin down in the most discrete fashion to acknowledge the order.

x x x x x x x x

Arthur waited in his chambers, sitting on a chair with one foot up on an opposite chair and a goblet of wine half gone. As he always did on such occasions – he dismissed Merlin early to ensure privacy. Merlin – to his credit – seemed self-absorbed and took the direction without argument. His blue eyes glistened at Arthur and he could see the newly found splendour in Merlin's eyes. There was also an unspoken gratitude for the chance for rest and escape. Arthur was certain now that he would need to be more gentle and less adventurous – Merlin could not withstand it – at least not yet. He had smiled inwardly at the thought of what practice it would be for them and waved off his servant with a hand.

"Good night, Merlin." He raised his goblet in a half salute and drank as Merlin exited.

His glass of wine was not yet finished before Leon knocked and, after entering and providing each other welcoming greetings, he was offered and accepted a goblet of wine. They clinked glasses before drinking and Leon wandered behind Arthur and let his hand squeeze his shoulder and then smooth over his front, gently fondling his left pectoral. From behind and above, Leon leaned down and gave him an upside down kiss on his mouth, then wanting more, put his goblet aside and tipped Arthur's chair backwards. Arthur arched back to welcome him and felt himself suspended in air. Reaching up, he caressed Leon's face and strained to keep him near.

After a time, they parted to catch their breath and Leon gave them both distance, wandering over to Arthur's four poster bed. Stopping in mid-stride, he reached down and pulled up a blue-grey scarf that had been dropped and lost under the bed. He held it up like a dead rodent but smiled a little, looking at it back and front and then made a pronouncement.

"This is Merlin's."

Arthur flicked his eyes up to capture and momentarily avoid a steady gaze. Leon knew about other lovers; he had introduced Arthur to almost all of them. Why was Merlin any different? Without knowing how or why, Arthur knew he was. Taking Merlin was not just taking another lover. It was something far more; something that vaguely felt like destiny. It was immutable and permanent and Arthur instinctively understood that after Merlin, no one would ever compare. He would be ruined forever; there would never be anyone else.

"Have I been replaced yet?" Leon asked, returning and slipping both hands over his chest and kissed him on the neck. Arthur kicked down his leg and stood, pushing aside the chair and folding into Leon, feeling a sudden heartache like they were parting forever and not wanting their union to end. Leon's hand moved down and cupped his buttocks and stepped flush against him.

Arthur kissed him gently. "How can I ever replace my first?"

"It will happen one day." Leon said, and returned kiss adding to it depth and texture and a push of his hips in a deliberate grind. "I have missed you." Then he added, "My Prince."

Merlin may have been on his mind more than usual. He had not considered himself neglectful. Arthur felt the need to defend their time apart. "It's not been so long."

They fell into their well-practiced custom with each other. Leon reached down and fondled Arthur, tracing his growing fullness leisurely. "Long enough." Leon said, amused at his double entendre.

Arthur stood with his legs slightly apart and braced himself for more attention and began enjoying the sensations of being aroused by another. Leon used the full of his hand, up and down the inside of Arthur's thigh, caressing his penis that was growing hard and trapped in his pant leg. Arthur communicated his desire with his kisses, making them fulsome and letting the suppressed hunger of the last two days finally emerge. Leon – he knew – would be able to match him and satisfy him with an unrestrained completeness. Leon stimulated him until he could no longer keep himself from pressing his hips forward. Leon's hand was there to receive him, as he always was, to caress him in the way that made Arthur feel like he ruled the world.

Arthur let his forehead rest against Leon's and he grunted with pleasure, moving his hips periodically in small, short bursts of energy. He was restrained but he ached to be otherwise. He savoured knowing the future. It would feel so good to let loose the restrictions and simply be as he was – strong, powerful, dominant.

"God." He said, his arms wrapped tightly around Leon and revelling in the experience with half-closed eyes.

"Am I?" Leon chuckled, giving Arthur some space to calm himself. "I had forgotten." He began removing his tunic and trousers and stood before him, aroused.

Arthur peeled off his clothing before closing the gap between them and clasped Leon in his hands to fondle him. Leon allowed Arthur several firm greedy strokes – letting him caress and squeeze and play with his hardness. Arthur could never keep his hands away from him; that flesh was as thick and solid as his own and its sameness distracted him. They put themselves together, lining themselves in parallel opposition and stimulated each other at the same time. Then Leon let his hands wander and slowly he dropped down to one knee and licked him, once or twice from below at first, then eased his mouth over the hard, pink head and suckled. Arthur pushed forward in a slow continuous movement, Leon holding his hips to steady and help him maximize the penetration.

Arthur closed his eyes and began pumping his pelvis and revelled in the pull Leon put on his insides and how it filled him with power and energy. Arthur was thunder that had held back; lightening that had not yet struck. He placed his hands on Leon's head and ran his fingers into his hair, trying to caress him but abandoning polite tenderness to tightly entwine his fingers into his hair and gripped to pull him forward. He sighed and groaned and knew his sounds aroused Leon. Arthur was rewarded for it. Leon continued moaning softly and making a vibration that radiated into Arthur's body like the destruction of an earthquake.

"Now." Arthur said huskily, withdrawing from Leon and tucking a hand under his arm to lift him to his feet. "Now." Leon knew what he wanted – he always knew, even when Arthur himself did not.

Leon turned his back to him and braced himself against the massive oak pillar of the poster bed. Arthur reached from behind and fondled him and Leon opened his stance, allowing the fullness of his erection to stand free and be teased and pleased by Arthur. Eventually retreating, he abandoned Leon and took himself in both hands and leaned forward slightly. Arthur found his entrance and pushed his thickness in just a bit until Leon groaned at the effort of receiving him. It was the approval of exquisite effort and Leon braced himself as Arthur went a little further and then – in a series of little pushes and pulls where every push was just a little deeper – Arthur slid inside. He began thrusting himself, harder and harder, and Leon simply let him – able to bear the brunt of this energy without effort. The oak pillar began to creak and shudder and the sound of its distinctive loud beating rhythm made Arthur high and reinforced his energetic moves. There was not yet enough power to satisfy and he grabbed Leon's hips and as he pushed forward, yanked Leon into him and their legs slapped together in unison. At each powerful thrust, they both grunted and Arthur felt the energy of orgasm begin to spiral around him and lift him into a euphoria of invincibility. He dominated and then, from the other end of the room, he heard a gasp. The intrusion did not make sense to him and the interruption infuriated him because it distracted him from savouring the fullness of this moment that he had not had in days.

He bared his teeth, struggling to delay his exhilaration and looked up.

Merlin.

He stood at the doorway, staring with eyes as big and round as the moon. His face was a mix of shock and disbelief.

Arthur should have acted differently – found some way to withdraw and explain and placate - but he was held prisoner by his body. Everything he should have done was impossible. All he could do was to picture Merlin in Leon's place. He mouthed Merlin's name, desperate for Merlin to read his lips and understand the depth of his desires and see that this was not what it looked like. It was a simple trick of the mind – Arthur imagined he was with Merlin, not Leon. Arthur shut his eyes feeling his body release the pent up energy that Merlin and his skin and his body and his inexperienced body had created for him. Arthur had abstained until he could no longer withstand being unsatisfied. He released his powerful orgasm and Leon and the oak pillar took it all and just as he subsided, Leon began with himself and – oblivious to Merlin's witnessing – worked himself vigorously until he too came.

When Arthur looked up again, Merlin was gone.


End file.
